Wookie revisited
by drlve
Summary: Rory Gilmore does not have one night stands with strangers. And she doesn't just have breakdowns in hotel rooms without something prompting her to. So to me, there is more to that story. This is Wookie Revisited.


Summary: Rory Gilmore does not have one night stands with strangers. And she doesn't just have breakdowns in hotel rooms without something prompting her to. So to me, there is more to that story. This is Wookie Revisited.

AN: It's been a while, but you know I can't resist this pairing. Especially if it helps me fill in some gaps.

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

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To say he was dumbfounded would be an understatement.

He caught the blue of her eyes first, that unmistakable shade of wonder mixed with a hint of heartache taking a hold of his attention and rendering him speechless.

He watched as the smile spread on her lips as she listened to a couple about ten feet from the curtained entrance he was currently peeking through. His eyes traveled over her features, so familiar but all grown up, the dewy features of an innocent girl of his memories morphing into the slender, elegant ones of the creature before him.

Her body was also transformed, he noted. Gone were the lanky, gawky movements of her teenager self, replaced by graceful, slender limbs and taut and inviting expanses of pale skin, the dress she was wearing hugging curves that sent his mind reeling.

And suddenly nostalgia flooded him, his skin breaking out in goosebumps as he let the feeling of anxious desire take over him. He pulled the mask off of his head, the rubbery contraption suddenly suffocating him.

He moved to the security personnel and the assistant with the clipboard and headset standing by the ropes and he pointed to her unknowing figure standing in line as he gave instructions to let her in.

He willed himself to put the mask back on his face, cursing the day he agreed to wear it in the first place and turned around to walk inside the darkened space, already crowded with people.

He was multitasking, checking lists and reviewing numbers, even now, when he knew all he really had to do was let his team do the work, the weeks of planning and organizing hopefully enough to pull off an event without a hitch. Still he liked to be present and liked to be taking part, hence the Chewbacca costume, to match the costumes of his team responsible for the PR management of the evening.

Tonight was important.

It had been a rough couple of years, what with the initial success of his web base advertisement firm weaning suddenly and inexplicably.

It took all his might, all his determination and all his dedication, all things he wasn't quite sure he had, to stir the ship from certain gloom and redirect. But he had always been good at that, adapting, adjusting, re-imagining. As a result, they had been able to ride the social media associated wave and have become something of an expert in guerilla marketing. Getting a commission from a movie studio was the biggest project they ever did, but he sat through the meeting with the big shots wearing a poker face, as though organizing the tie ins for a national campaign for a motion picture was no big deal.

The truth was that a deal like this, one that tied into a franchise with no foreseeable end was enough to keep them afloat for the next decade or so. It was a big project with several events, the only project his small firm should have been focusing on, including the boss, but he found himself glancing at the door uneasily in between checking supplies and registries.

He spotted her finally, in animated conversation with someone as she held her phone out to record whatever the seemingly fanatic individual in a Jabba costume was telling her.

He smiled at the knowledge that they were both working, whatever her job was that entailed recording musings of people dressed in giant worm costumes.

He watched her from a distance, from behind the safety of the mask, stuffy as it was and he could have sworn she caught his eyes on her several times, furrowing her brows amused at his blatant staring. His assistant, dressed ironically as Flash, despite her inability to get his requests done with sufficient speed, was informing him of a problem with storm trooper collectibles, but truth was he could not care less as his eyes settled on her, walking towards him with determined steps.

He didn't remember her hair being this shiny, this strikingly auburn, and his fingers itched to undo the updo she had it in, to see how free the locks would flow, how long they would reach down her back.

"Hey, I'm Rory Gilmore. I'm working on a story for GQ. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" she said as she came to stand in front of him, her demeanor breezy even though Chewbacca and Flash both stared at her.

He was sure he was he looked like an actual idiot, his mind reeling with the new information of her nearness, her voice, somehow flowing more smoothly, more confidently than he could recall ever hearing it, her perfume surrounding him like a sudden spell.

"No" he stuttered "not at all."

"You seem like you're in charge here" she asked, glancing around as she smiled.

"Is that a question?" he replied, signing something on the clipboard his assistant was holding and waving her off.

"Yes" she replied, a slight lift in her eyebrow showing her annoyance with his noncommittal reaction.

"I am in charge. Which is why I'm dressed like this" he sighed.

"What's with the Chewbacca mask over a suit? I feel like you're only halfway committing here" she chuckled, her face tilting away from him. It was infectious, her smile and he wondered if it was honest or just a tool she used in order to get her subjects in a more sharing mood.

"I personally thought it was a mask too much" he replied.

"Yet you wore it" she raised her eyebrow again.

"I'm nothing if not committed to a task" he shrugged.

"So, what is the task here exactly? Marketing for the new Star Wars movie camouflaged as a collector's event?" she asked.

"Something like that" he replied.

"You mind giving me some inside info?" she asked with a glint in her eyes.

"I'll give you whatever you want, Mary" he replied, his heartbeat launching into a gallop as he watched her face freeze and her eyes squint lightly in concentration.

He saw literal memories flash in her eyes, her recognition slowly becoming apparent by the slow smile spreading on her lips.

"Tristan?" she asked, her eyes glued to his hands as he removed the mask slowly.

"As I live and breathe" he replied, his hands moving up to bring some order to the mess atop of his head.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, the unbelieving smile ever present on her face as she moved to hug him.

He reacted slowly, his hands going around her only while she was already pulling away, the sudden intimacy of her greeting taking him by surprise.

"I own an advertisement firm, we organized this event" he said with a slow smile as his eyes took in her face, her features somehow even more beautiful than he remembered it.

"Wow. So, you... you work in advertising?" she asked.

"You ask that as though I wasn't always selling shit" he replied without missing a beat.

She chuckled.

"And you? You're working on a story for GQ? You write for them?" he asked, impressed.

"No. It's just freelance. I'm not even sure they'll bite. I wouldn't mind having a stable gig there though" she sighed, her face modest as she excused herself. Those gestures he definitely remembered. She was always the smartest, most alluring girl in every room, every situation, yet she was always excusing herself.

"And you live here?" he asked, his voice sounding way too hopeful for his own liking.

She shook her head with a smile.

"No, not really. I'm sort of in between places, in between towns. I travel a lot. It's a bit complicated" she shrugged.

"Right" he said, squinting as he noted the discomfort on her face.

"What about you?" she asked "How long have you been in New York?"

"I came to college here, to NYU and then I ended up sticking around. I used to work for R/GA, then I started my own company and long story short, I'm wearing a Chewbacca costume to encourage the crazy in people" he explained, his fingers running through his hair that seemed to stand on end after the tragic effect of the mask.

"It's a noble profession" she offered, her tone playful.

"Yeah, tell that to my parents" he replied not missing a beat.

"They don't approve?" she asked, wincing.

"I think they're still holding out hope that I'll come to my senses and go back to study law" he sighed, knowing it was probably true.

"Yeah, but have they seen your sweet collection of stormtroopers?" she glanced around, her playful banter reminding him how easy it was to get carried away in a conversation with her.

"I doubt that will convince them" he murmured smiling.

They stared at each other for a long beat and she looked away with a slight blush.

"So, what's the story on?" he asked, trying to break the tension.

"Uhm. Lines" she said shrugging.

"Like cocaine?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, although interesting where your mind jumps to. It's about the infatuation with exclusive content, people's obsession with waiting for something that society deems valuable. I think you'd actually be a great source" she raised an eyebrow suggestively at him.

"I probably would" he mimicked her expression.

"Yeah? Hit me with some facts DuGray" she nudged him gently and he glanced down to the spot on his arm that she touched, thee skin underneath his casual suit jacket tingling.

"Well, let's see," he glanced back up to study her, theatrically looking her up and down, "you're a woman in your early thirties... college educated... married?" he probed, amused by his own smooth inquiry.

She blushed again, shaking her head.

"So... single... living in... we're going to say a rental setup... That would make you most likely to spend a surprising amount of money on Princess Leila inspired make up kits."

"Hmm. That's... actually amazingly accurate" she scrunched her face.

"Also, you're dying to try the "Giggling Yoda" martini" he stated matter-of-factly.

"Am I?" she asked surprised.

"Statistics don't lie, Mary" he nodded.

"Okay. Who am I to argue with statistics" she shrugged her shoulders lightly.

His assistant rushed back up to him, desperately trying to get his attention and he sighed, glancing at Rory with a strangely heavy feeling in his chest.

"Go" she waved him off "I'm sure you're busy."

"Just for another hour or so. You wanna grab something to eat after?" he asked, his words coming out before he could think to stop himself.

She looked surprised for a moment.

"Get her a couple of Giggling Yodas," he instructed his assistant without taking his eyes off of her, "And you go, get some more quotes for your story, I'll come find you after"

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"Are you serious?" she asked, laughing in between bites.

"I'm telling you, I wasn't there," he said amused "I never graduated there, why would I be invited to alumni events?"

"Wow, so she freaked out about someone who wasn't even you" she wondered out half to herself.

"I still don't get why she even freaked out" he said, incredulous.

She shrugged.

"I don't really know. I guess when she though she saw you, a lot of insecurities resurfaced... I don't know. She's not having a stellar year" she trailed off, her voice becoming more serious.

"She can join the club" he said, defeat lacing his words as he leaned back in his seat.

They were sitting in PJ Clarkes, her finishing off a meal that would shame him on his best day and him nursing a beer.

"Pfff. What do you have to whine about?" she retorted.

He shrugged, not wanting to elaborate.

"Do you have an eating disorder of some sort?" he asked, trying to change the subject as he sipped his beer.

"Why?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"How do you manage to look this hot with that appetite? I'm gonna have to run ten miles tomorrow just to work off watching you eat all that" he pointed to the burger in her hands.

She shrugged.

"I guess I'm lucky that way" she said, taking another bite.

He watched her eyes sparkle, he noted with what seemed to be a slightly inebriated state. That probably had something to do with the three Giggling Yodas she consumed while waiting for him. It turned out to be more than an hour, yet every time he looked up to see her, she was there, meeting his eyes briefly. It made him feel an intense emotion and he was itching to hand over and wrap up.

She was disarming, as beautiful as ever but somehow more approachable, more engaging. It made his heart of stone ache.

"So freelance?" He asked "I thought you'd be a foreign correspondent by now."

She sighed and finished chewing.

"Yeah, well things didn't seem to go as easily as I initially predicted. I've had a few setbacks" she said, slowly placing the remainder of her burger back on her plate and wiping her hands with the napkin.

"In your line of work? Shocker" he raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" She asked taking another bite from her burger.

"You always seemed like you'd have a tough time correcting course" he said, suddenly feeling strangely honest and slightly cynical.

"What does that supposed to mean?" She asked, perplexed, her guards drawing.

"Geez, I don't know Mary, has anyone mentioned to you that print media is dying?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I seemed to have heard that before" she frowned.

"Well maybe this story will be your big break, Mary" he said conspiratorially but he could see on her face, frozen in a permanent frown that his remarks riled her up.

"So, you're calling me Mary because I didn't give up on my dream and jump ship to I don't know, what is it that you do again? Sell the forty fifth franchise movie this year?" She retorted and the intensity of her response gave him a thrill, the nostalgic feeling of being in an argument with her returning with full force.

"Hey, you'd be a lot more convincing if you weren't sporting a limited-edition princess Leila toy" he pointed to her bag on the chair next to them.

"That is for my mom" She retorted, her lips in a pout.

His eyes focused on her lips and he shifted in his seat ever so lightly.

"Right. Look, I get the indignation, I do, but truth is, selling shit to people is always going to be a steady gig. Whereas reporting... I hate to break it to you but the masses have revolted Mary. They don't want stuck up snobs to tell them what's right and what's wrong and what they should care about"

"Excuse me? If anyone's a stuck-up snob telling people what to like, it's you" She shot back.

"Touché. Bottom line is, you gotta adjust, gotta evolve, gotta recalculate the course" he went on leaning onto his elbows.

"Right" Rory said, her brows drawn in defeat.

"Aww, don't be bitter, Mary. I'm sure you'll find your calling" he teased.

"Yeah? And what would that be?" She cocked an eyebrow.

He realized he could have stopped, dissipated the tension between them, but he chose not to, the push and pull of their conversation giving him a thrill he didn't remember having for years.

"Probably run the town newspaper back at that charming little nuthouse of a town of yours on city money. Marry the store owner, have a couple of kids, live the charmed life and still be able to write from your high horse."

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, seeing her face freeze.

"You don't know me" she whispered.

She leaned back into her chair, her gaze dropping to the plate in front of her, now abandoned.

He groaned inwardly at his miscalculation. But isn't that how it always was with her? He'd get caught up in the thrill of getting her riled up and always push just a little too far.

"Hey" he said, reaching out a hand to touch her arm "I'm sorry, I didn't want to be rude."

He watched, half expecting her to shrink away from his touch but her face relaxed as she reached for the remnants of her burger.

"Let's hope you're more smooth at selling shit to the masses. Although as I recall you were pretty successful as long as you stuck to your target audience" she said.

Now it was his turn to gape at her, her remark hitting him where it hurt the most. His ego.

He cleared his throat trying to get his bearings.

"Yeah, I was a dumbass seeking out attention"

"And now?" She asked, eyebrow raised again.

He chuckled. She was not half bad at interviewing.

"I guess I still am."

He watched as she finished the remainder of her food and washed it down with a sip of her cocktail.

"You know, I never got why you had to do that" she mused.

"Really?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yeah really. Why you had to push people's buttons. Mine especially"

"God, you really are a Mary" he sighed, glancing skyward in mock annoyance.

"Stop calling me that, I've had sex eons ago!" she shot back, her voice slightly telling of just how affected she was by the copious amount of alcohol she had consumed.

"First of all. Lower your voice. Second of all you having sex isn't gonna change the fact that you're a Mary" he pointed out.

"That... that doesn't make sense" she shook her head, perplexed.

"It makes perfect sense. Let me muse here. Your first time? Probably with that horrible floppy haired kid?" He said, his voice lower as he moved closer to her.

He half expected indignation but instead he saw her face morph into surprise then a slight blush and smirk, telling him he nailed the hypothetical scenario.

"It was on someone's squeaky childhood bed, missionary, quick, but full of emotion masking the fact that you didn't even come. Then I'm sure you got some more practice with him, and maybe eventually even got to a fucking orgasm or two, but once the emotions faded, you were left with a sense of wanting something more, of needing something more raw, right?" he went on, his tone dropping even lower.

Her eyes were fixed on his now, so intensely blue, it gave him a rush. The crude words didn't startle her, instead he saw what seemed to be excitement in the way her eyes sparkled. It encouraged him to go on.

"So, I'm sure once you got to college and adjusted, told no to all the nerdy smart kids that hung around you and looked around, you set your sights on a reformed playboy, right? Someone who was a player, but just about over it and ready to throw himself into a traditional relationship, someone who was still presentable, to your family, your grandparents, to the world. But also, a little risky, a little hard to hold onto, a little more exciting in bed."

He almost whispered the words, knowing he was right, reassured by some long ago heard Hartford gossip he tried to ignore even back then, but really couldn't. She sat there unmoving, her breaths coming in fast, shallow succession and he felt a strange kind of desire awaken within him.

"So, you got into sex and you let him do whatever he pleased, because he was more experienced, sexy and managed to actually find your clit. But the thing is, there was still something missing. You didn't feel that fire, that uncontrollable urge to just have him fuck you against a wall in a back alley or let him know all the exciting shit you were fantasizing about when you were touching yourself in your dorm room."

And there it was. The look he would have killed for back in high school but only got now. Rory Gilmore, with eyes swimming with suddenly awoken desire.

"Tell me, Mary, did you ever think of me?"

He pushed, knowing it might be the excess that would break the moment.

There was a long second of silence, her chest rising with a deep breath.

"You're a little bit off base here" she said, but the hoarseness of her voice seemed to prove the opposite.

"Am I?" He retorted, searching her face for the answer of his last question but thinking of ways to keep the exchange going.

"I bet you ended up dumping that poor schmuck just when he was getting into the whole committed relationship business because you wanted something more, something exciting. So, you went out there and threw yourself into dating, waiting for that passionate encounter, but all you got was anxious ivy leaguers and deadbeats. So now? now you're probably stuck dating someone who has an apartment and a steady income, but not much else to keep you excited, someone probably named... Paul."

She squinted, now genuinely shocked.

"How...?"

He raised her phone off the table.

"You have had two missed calls from him in the past hour" he pointed out.

She snapped her phone back from him.

"He's... this was never... we're not... I'm breaking it off with him" she said, her words slightly slurred.

"Makes sense. I'm sure he never made you scream out for more" he leaned back in his seat, happy as someone who just delivered a three pointer.

"Okay, you about done?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"I don't know, am I? I was just getting to the part when you run into someone who used to be infatuated with you and you finally give in and have yourself an earth shattering..." he was half laughing now, knowing she would stop him and his rant.

"Riiight. And you'd be this handsome blast from the past?" she asked, cutting into his assessment.

"I mean, I usually have a longer waiting list, but for you I could make an exception..." he joked, eliciting another eye roll.

"Because, let me guess. You don't have anything else to go home to but your sleek bachelor pad after you screwed it up with your own "finally ready for it" relationship and then sleeping your way through lower Manhattan the minute you got a little confident because you got your first commission?" she said, her eyes shining as she transfixed him with them.

He remained fallen back in his seat, once again remembering why he used to be obsessed with getting into arguments with her.

"Look who's stealing my psychic thunder" he murmured wondering if she too, had some aiding information in the form of long ago heard Hartford gossip.

"So, I'm right?" she asked, her reporter's intuition seemingly kicking in.

"About the sleek pad or the catastrophe of a marriage I had?" he asked.

The surprise on her face made him realize she hadn't heard the gossip. Maybe he was just that much of a cliché.

"You were married?" she asked, her voice a mix of wonder and what he could only identify as disappointment.

"According to the alimony reminders I get monthly" he replied bitterly.

"For how long?" she asked.

"Three years" he replied, his voice somber.

"What happened?" she asked, concern in her eyes.

He had to look away. He wasn't sure he could answer that question himself.

It was something he didn't talk about. Not even with friends who were more than willing to commiserate and listen to any ill will he would have liked to voice.

"I'm not really sure. It was picture perfect for a while. Then it wasn't"

He wanted to find more words, but he couldn't. And really how do you pour years of disappointment and fear and anguish and guilt and self-loathing into a couple of sentences? That was more her trade.

"Any kids?" she asked and he looked up, self-conscious.

Instead of answering, he slid his phone out from his pocket, awakening the screen and letting her look at the screensaver.

It was him and Sandra, a picture taken on her third birthday, her face ecstatic in a beautiful smile.

"Wow," she said, studying the picture "she has your eyes. And your hair."

"Let's hope she has her mother's discipline" he sighed, his hand rubbing his face, suddenly exhausted.

He watched the screen as it went black and slid the phone back into his pocket, feeling her searching gaze on him. She didn't push for more info, but somehow, he still felt like sharing.

"When she was born... it was like a blow to the head. I realized I've never loved anyone when I felt what it was like to love her. And I guess her mother felt that too. We tried. I tried for even longer. I would have tried forever just to be near Sandra. But it is what it is."

"I'm sorry" her quiet words drew him back to her.

"Well it gave me focus to pull my company out of bankruptcy," he shrugged "at least that was something good that came out of it."

"What about you?" he asked. "Do you have tales of sordid heartache and gut-wrenching affairs?"

"For your information, my first time was with a married man" she shrugged and he choked on his water.

"What? How? Like in that crazy town of yours? Or no, I know! An illicit love affair with a Harvard professor?" he chuckled, happy to be able to stir the conversation into more light territories.

"I feel like you're veering further and further from the truth" she rolled her eyes.

"Who would have thought my Mary would keep me guessing?" he wondered out loud.

"I'm not your Mary" she shook her head with an amused smile.

"Don't I know it?" he replied, his voice more serious than he intended.

Her eyes caught his and for a moment he felt an incredible need to reach over the table and pull her closer. To smell her, taste her, feel her.

He watched as she took a deep breath and it made him wonder if she was having the same thoughts.

"I should go" she said, her fingers toying with her napkin.

"Hmm. You probably should, yeah. But instead, you could let me buy you another drink, maybe tell me all about this scandalous affair" he murmured, unmoving in his chair.

She looked back up at him, her eyes so blue it made him forget about all and any other colors.

"One more drink" she replied with a small smile.

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"This is totally the sleek bachelor pad I predicted" she said as he watched her walk into his apartment, admiring the view through the floor to ceiling windows.

"I never denied it" he said.

"Wow. Selling shit to the masses apparently pays off" she mused turning back towards him.

"Six figures baby" he raised his hands spreading them in a gesture of fake amazement.

"So, you're happy, right?" she asked, her voice suddenly serious.

The question left him speechless.

"I don't know. Should I be?" he looked away, his gaze falling to the stuffed rabbit peeking out from under his couch.

He walked over, pulling it out with ease and carried the stray toy to the room nestled in the far corner of the apartment. He tossed the toy inside, closing the door after it.

When he turned around she was standing closer than he'd thought, her eyes still focused on the interior of Sandra's room despite the now closed door.

"I know it's not how you imagined it. But now that you're in the place you are, aren't you happier? Would you go back to trying to make something work that wasn't meant to be?" she asked and he wondered if she was talking more about herself than him.

"I guess that's true" he replied and it made her smile.

"I mean" she turned back to the view, walking towards the window and the Manhattan skyline illuminated perfectly.

"This is pretty spectacular. And that kid in your lap laughing like that? I'll give you 6 months before some single mom sets her sights on you. You're like dating bait in Manhattan!"

He chuckled.

"Yeah, well I'm not looking for anything serious right now" he replied "I am focused on work and what little time I have left is Sandra's"

"So, you mean to tell me you are celibate?" she asked, her tone playful as she turned around.

The way she looked, her deep blue outfit blending into the New York City skyline, gave him a thrill like he couldn't remember experiencing for a long time.

"I never said that" he said as he slowly moved towards her.

He saw her breath catch and it made him smirk.

"So, you really do have everything you might need" she murmured as he came to stand in front of her.

"I have a couple of things I haven't gotten just yet" he replied.

"Let me guess? Your never fulfilled fantasy of landing your Mary?"

"You said it, not me." he agreed, standing impossibly close to her, but never touching.

"At this point, it would be nothing more than proving something to your 16-year-old self" she pointed out.

"Now why do you say that?" he asked, furrowing his brows, even as a smirk spread on his lips.

"Well you said it! I'm a mess. I've chosen a stupid profession and am flailing as the business shrinks under my feet without the ability to change course and find something fulfilling" she burst out, her voice annoyed. He noted that she wasn't slurring anymore, her eyes clear after the walk to his apartment in the cool evening.

"Yeah, but you're still gorgeous. And sexy as fuck" he said, an arm snaking behind her back. She reached out instinctively, her hands landing on his arms.

She snorted.

"Nobody ever called me sexy before" she sighed but he could tell she was bending the truth more than a little bit. Standing there, a couple of strands coming loose from her bun, her mouth slightly parted and her face flushed, from the alcohol or the chilly evening, he couldn't tell; she was the definition of sexy.

"I'm calling you sexy right now" he said, voice hoarse.

"Yeah right" she said, her fingers fidgeting as her gaze dropped to his chest.

"Rory" he said, making sure he had her full attention on him as he said the next words with a voice so low it cracked. "I've had a fucking hard on for the past two hours and I'm thinking of ways to make you come as we speak"

There was a moment of silence between them, her gut wrenchingly blue eyes darting from his eyes to his lips and back up.

"Yeah? What do you got so far?" she asked, her voice only a whisper.

He smirked, feeling the thrill of being egged on by her. He saw the flush become infinitesimally more pronounced on her face and he felt encouraged to make it even more so.

"Oral first, then me standing and you reclined on the bed. Probably doggy style a bit later because shit, your ass has only gotten better with age" he said, the adrenaline coursing in his veins as the words left his mouth.

There was a beat of silence again before she shook her head, blushing.

"There's my Mary" he smiled.

"I don't know Chewy, I'm not sure we're even compatible anatomically" she groaned, closing her eyes.

"Well I'm well-endowed but I'll make sure to give you time to adjust" he stepped even closer, feeling her breath on his face.

"You're serious about this" she said, opening up her eyes that seemed to be pained.

He pulled her closer, pushing his lower half against her, letting her feel the affect she had on him.

"I'm pretty serious." he said, words cracking as he brushed a stray lock, escaping from her updo, back from her shoulders as his face moved closer to hers.

"I'm gonna regret this" she said closing her eyes again, her lips parting slightly.

"I'll view it as a personal failure if you do" he said, closing the small gap between them, his lips brushing hers.

She sighed giving into the kiss. His lips moved languidly over hers, his tongue darting out and slipping into her mouth as she parted her lips more. She tasted sweet and a little bitter from whatever her last drink was, and he felt like he couldn't get enough of the feeling on his own tongue. His hands went around her waist pulling her closer, grinding himself against her.

She moaned, feeling his need and he cursed, mumbling into the kiss.

"Please don't run away crying" he murmured and she laughed out loud as his lips moved to her neck.

"I forgot about that" she giggled.

"Can't say I didn't try to" he murmured as his hand went up to caress her neck and tangle into her hair while the other one reached behind her back to undo her zipper.

His hand brushed her bare back and she shivered.

His other hand slipped from her hair, gently pulling the loosened dress from her body and it fell to her feet with a soft thud.

He stepped back and held her hand to help her step out from the puddle of blue fabric, her chunky polka dot heels still on her feet. He glanced back up at her, admiring her slender form clad only in white satin panties and a bra.

"You're fucking gorgeous" he whispered and moved to kiss her face that blushed instantly at the compliment. His lips found her again and he moaned as he felt her respond more eagerly this time around.

He felt her hands tug at his jacket and he cooperated as it slipped from his body, falling to the ground. His T-shirt was next and he broke from their kiss reluctantly as she pulled the garment over his head.

He watched as her eyes traveled down his pecs and abs, his mouth turning up into a smirk as he saw the hazy look in her eyes.

"Like anything you're seeing, Mary?" he asked as he moved back to kiss her again.

Her tongue was soft and sweet and his hands moved to her neck, drawing her closer as her hands moved to undo his belt buckle. His jeans dropped to the ground and her hands moved to his bulge instantly, cupping him and making him gasp as he broke off the kiss, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"You're messing up the plan" he ground out and she chuckled as he moved swiftly to rid his legs of any remaining clothing, before he came back up, lifting her up onto himself in the process.

She shrieked at the sudden motion, giggling as he carried her towards the bedroom and dropped her unceremoniously on the bed.

She immediately sat up, her hands reaching out to touch his torso, but he shook his head, pushing her back gently.

"The plan? Remember?" He said, before lowering himself to his knees and occupying himself with the task of removing her panties.

She chuckled again but lifted her hips to aid his task.

He was instantly against her, her legs hooked over his shoulder and his tongue darting out to explore her wet heat. His eyes rolled back into his head as the combined sensation of her taste filling his mouth and her breathy grasp invaded his senses.

He flicked his tongue against her swollen nub and she moaned unintelligibly, her hands waiving into his hair as she pulled him closer.

"God, yes" she gasped and he felt his own need threatening to burst in his briefs at the reactions she was giving him.

His fingers moved to probe her, the tight clamping making him curse, but his focus remained on her clit, sensing every flick of his tongue, every alternating sucking motion made her body tense more and her pants come faster.

He was amazed at her response, her sexy mewls of pleasure driving him crazy and he clamped down on her, sucking furiously in order to push her over the edge.

She tensed, her back arching off of the bed, her body a tightly wound chord before her release shook through her, her center bucking against his face as she cried out, calling out his name. It took all his might not to reach down and finish himself off with what he figured would be one stroke. He willed himself to calm instead, his tongue lapping out in lazy swipes to ease her still shivering sex down from her high.

"Fuck, that was amazing" she panted and he raised an eyebrow as he looked up.

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear" he chuckled as he climbed up, leaving haphazard kisses over her body.

"I know you have a plan" she sighed "but blowing my mind on the first go might have been a miscalculation on your part" she chuckled, her eyes still closed.

"I can't feel my face" she chuckled "hey, is this what that song is about?"

He chuckled as he listened to her ramble, pulling her close in a kiss.

He felt her moan and he wondered if it was because she felt her own taste on his mouth.

Whatever it was, it gave her new incentive as she rolled him onto his back, coming to straddle him.

"I know you have a plan" she said, sliding down so her center was against his "but I was wondering if there was any room for improvisation?" she smiled down at him, grinding herself against him for good measure.

His hands flew to her hips steadying her against him, her heat scorching even through the material of his briefs.

"I'm always open to innovative ideas" he murmured.

"Happy to hear" she smirked "on that note, you wouldn't happen to have..." she trailed off, gesturing to his manhood.

"Nightstand. Top drawer" he replied amused as he put his arms below his head, watching as she slid off of him and followed his directions.

She came back, aluminum packet in hand and her hands hooked into the waistband of his briefs, gently easing it off of him as he lifted his hips to aid her.

He saw the flash of impressed surprise on her face as her eyes traveled to his raging hard on and it sent a thrill down his spine, his ego happily stroked.

Thankfully his ego wasn't the only thing getting stroked as her hand reached out tentatively to squeeze him.

He grunted, his abs tensing as the sensation sent a jolt through his body.

He heard the packet being ripped and he opened his eyes, watching as she sheathed him in the condom with surprisingly practiced moves.

"That Harvard professor thought you some moves, Mary" he breathed the words watching in delight as she let out a gurgling laugh.

"I'll give you his info on rate my professor" she retorted as she climbed back on top of him.

Suddenly there was no space for jokes in his head as she positioned herself over him and began her slow decent, her eyes focused on him.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open, focusing on that intense shade of blue even as the feeling of being enveloped by tight, wet heat overrode all of his other senses.

She let out a soft moan as she came to rest in his lap and he reveled in the feel of himself, lodged deep into the most intimate part of her. It made him twitch and she gasped, her hips moving involuntarily in a sensuous rhythm.

He groaned and steadied her hips with his hands, trying to control her movements but he felt his own hips jerk up into her on her next rocking.

She moaned again, eyes closed, and his hands moved to her back, releasing her from the confines of her bra.

She chuckled as she let the garment slip from her shoulders, leaving him to stare at the creamy perfection of her breast.

"God, you're fucking gorgeous" he hissed, matching her slow movements.

She smiled at him, leaning forward to kiss him deeply and he took the opportunity to undo her hair, letting the brown locks cascade down and curtain him from everything else.

"Have I mentioned you're gorgeous?" he asked in between kisses.

She giggled again, finding her rhythm as she rose and sank in his lap.

He watched her, her eyes closing in pleasure as soft moans escaped her lips.

"You feel good" she murmured and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from cursing.

Her hands reached out to steady herself against his torso and she ground her hips into him harder, making his mind flood with pleasure.

He grasped her hips, suddenly turning and taking her with him, coming to rest on top of her.

She moaned as he sank into her harder, her legs going around him to allow him to sink into her.

He pushed her hair back from her face, watching as her cheeks became flushed.

His pace increased and he could tell she was close, her pants coming shallow and quick.

She tensed under him, moaning loud into his ears and he felt himself explode into her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He woke to a loud hiss and whispered curses.

"Let me guess, stepped in a lego piece?" he murmured, his voice groggy from having drifted off to slumber.

"Is that what this is?" she asked, rubbing her foot that was resting on her other thigh, her skirt bunching as a result. It made him realize she was completely dressed, if a little worse for wear than how he saw her first that afternoon.

"It's my secret weapon for guests who want to sneak out without warning" he offered as an explanation.

"I thought that was appreciated for guests" she retorted, arching an eyebrow.

"What exactly do you think of me?" he said, pulling her back as she protested weakly.

"I guess... it looks like you have a little bit more experience than me in this" she shrugged as she came to sit on the bed, as far from him as it was humanly possible, he noted.

"'This' meaning?" he asked, referring to her words.

"One-night stands" she elaborated, her tone a mix between playful and slightly accusing.

"Is that what this is?" he asked, leaning back against the headboard as he regarded her, squirming slightly under his gaze.

"You said it yourself, you aren't looking for a relationship" she shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"And you already have one" he retorted.

She looked at him perplexed.

"Paul?" he raised an eyebrow, offering her a reminder.

"Right. Paul" she squinted as if in pain.

He smiled, amused.

"Well, I hope you don't regret it" he said, the words hanging heavy in the air as they regarded each other from across the two ends of the bed.

"I... no... it's just strange to see you and ... this was unexpected... I... didn't think this is where I'd be in my thirties" she rambled and he was sure she was blushing even though he couldn't tell in the dark glow of the room.

He regarded her as he pulled his legs up resting his arms on his knees as he leaned back more comfortably against the headboard.

"Where did you think you'd be?" he asked, his voice calm, quiet.

"I don't know. More successful I guess" she said, her voice relaxing too, as she folded her legs under herself, leaning on an arm.

"Rory, it's not your fault print media changed. You'll figure out how to fit into what's going on now. You're way too smart not to" he said, his words honest in the protection of the dark room. It occurred to him that all his teasing about her job and career, all her allusions to her failings plagued her mind and shook her in her conviction.

"It's not just that" she shrugged "I mean, I didn't know what I wanted, I just knew it wasn't what everyone else wanted because I'd find a cooler, more satisfying way to live and now I feel like time is rushing by and I haven't found that way but I also missed my chance to do the other things, the expected things"

She spoke in a rush and although it was an anxiety induced vomit of words, somehow it made perfect sense to him, bringing him back to his own internal battles over the past fifteen or so years since he'd last seen her.

"Mary. You have time for whatever you want to do, trust me" he told her, trying as much to reassure her as himself.

"Do I though?" she asked, the question hanging wearily in the air.

He thought for a moment. Trying to think of a way to comfort her.

"Who would you trade with?" he finally asked.

"What?" she looked at him confused.

"Out of all the people you know, your age, who would you trade with?" he elaborated and she sighed, catching her meaning.

She shrugged.

"I don't know."

"I can't name one person who's got it together. No one I envy. No one that has gotten it all figured it out and off without a hitch. We're all just trying to get by best we can" he said, his words soft.

She sighed, nodding.

"I feel like you are not convinced" he pointed out.

She smiled, looking up at the ceiling.

"Do you ever think... if I just did that one thing differently... decided another way... that your life would be different?" she asked.

He swallowed, some unknown bitterness in the back of his throat.

He was reminded again, of those vague allusions, whispered gossips.

"You mean if you would have married him?" he asked and he felt the flash of blue land on him.

She looked at him, mouth agape.

"You know plenty..." she wondered out loud.

He shrugged, not denying anything.

"It would be different, Rory. But I'm not convinced you'd be more sure about your place in life" he said, his tone calm.

She nodded and looked down at the tussled sheets between them. A slow smile spread on her lips and it made his mouth turn up at the corners too.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing" she shrugged.

"What?" he asked again, prompting her.

"Nothing it's just that you remind me of him a little bit" she said, her admission quiet.

He scoffed, a myriad of feelings swirling in the wake of her admission.

"Well... I don't mean to point out the obvious, but you did meet me first..." he said, eyebrow arching.

"Meaning?" she squinted.

"So technically, I can't remind you of him... more so... he reminded you of me. Which explains so much..." he pointed to her, finger wagging.

"Okay" she rolled her eyes "I really gotta go and get back to my hotel" she said, as she stood from the bed suddenly.

"Paul waiting for you?" he asked, his tone slightly bitter.

"No" she flinched "actually, it's my mom. She's spending the weekend with me."

He looked at her curiously, not knowing if she was telling the truth or trying to pull one over his head.

"You're still very odd" he said slowly, enjoying her resulting laugh, filling the dark bedroom.

"Thank you. It was... nice running into you" she said, her hand reaching out and squeezing his.

"You too, Mary" he replied, unmoving as he watched her slip from his bedroom.

He heard the front door open and close quietly and he slid back down onto his bed, closing his eyes as the smell of her perfume still lingered around him.


End file.
